


A White Christmas

by AbschaumNo1



Series: Twelve Days of Christmas Ficlets [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Christmas Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-22 06:10:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13160895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbschaumNo1/pseuds/AbschaumNo1
Summary: Steve gets Bucky back. A story in three Christmases.





	A White Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Happy belated birthday to V!  
> I hope you'll like this <3

The first Christmas after he gets Bucky back Steve spends on the run. Bucky is frozen again, in Wakanda, while T’Challa and his scientists try to find a way to remove the Soviet programming. All Steve can do is hope and continue his work out of the eyes of the public. He barely even registers that Christmas happens.

He’s in Wakanda for the second Christmas, because apparently there has been a break through, and he barely allows himself to hope, but maybe just maybe Bucky can be allowed to walk freely again after this. (Then again, who is Steve kidding? He’s definitely hoping.) T’Challa does his best to find a balance between giving him hope and preparing him for disappointment. Steve’s grateful for it, but as it turns out it was unnecessary. Because T’Challa’s scientists are amazing, and whatever it is they’re doing is working. (Bruce and Tony would know, Steve thinks, but Bruce has disappeared and Tony… Well, it’s probably best that he’s not here).  
Steve’s not too proud to admit that he almost cries when Bucky opens his eyes, squinting against the light, and says, “Stevie?”  
It only registers later that it was Christmas morning.

Their third Christmas they spend in a cabin the woods somewhere in northern Sweden. They need to lie low for a bit, and a cabin surrounded only by trees and snow seemed like a good place. Bucky isn’t completely happy with how much cover the trees provide for anyone trying to sneak up on them, but he grudgingly admitted that it works in their favour as well. They don’t do much in term of Christmas presents, it’s not like they can carry around much more than they already do without people getting suspicious. But Bucky, who’s a lot better at blending in than Steve is, and actually speaks Swedish, buys enough groceries to feed an army battalion and they make a huge Christmas meal together. They wash the dishes immediately after they’re done eating, a habit they picked up when they lived together in Brooklyn, and if it wasn’t for Bucky’s arm, or the fact that Steve’s not as skinny as he used to be, it’s almost as if the past seventy years never happened.  
They’ve put a playlist on with old Christmas songs from before any of this happened Steve looks up from scrubbing at a plate and finds Bucky looking at him, a fond smile on his face.  
“What?” Steve says, raising an eyebrow.  
Bucky steps in close, takes the sponge out of Steve’s hand and takes his hands in his. “Dance with me?” he says, pulling Steve away from the sink. The song playing is slow, barely enough to sway to in what little space their cabin offers, but Steve smiles and follows easily.  
They sway together, wrapped in each other’s arms until the song ends, and when it does, Bucky smiles at Steve and kisses him, soft and sweet.  
“Merry Christmas, Stevie,” he says when they part again, and Steve smiles helplessly.  
“Merry Christmas, Buck.”


End file.
